Tag: Pseudoips prasinana

When first I became a maker of wood-meadows, it was in response to the devastating losses in flora and fauna that we have witnessed during my lifetime. That some 97% of lowland meadows have gone under the plough, with a similar degree of disappearance in coppiced woodlands – never mind all those miles of mixed hedgerows – prompted the following thoughts:
If we’ve lost all those from the base of the ecological pyramid, what has happened to the fauna that depended on them? The grievous declines in invertebrate pollinators of every stripe, and of the songbirds, which, in turn, depend on them to feed their nestlings, have run in parallel. No surprise.
Can anything be done to restore them? Well, if you wish, you can read about that here: http://threehaggeswoodmeadow.org.uk/resource/creation-of-a-wood-meadow-ecosystem/

By far the biggest part of this ecosystem creation adventure for me has been the attempt to ensure that the plants in the wood-meadow provide not only nectar and pollen, but also the larval food sources for their young.
And the biggest part of the biggest part has been my discovery of moths and my subsequent searches for their floral associations.
And of the moth that first captured my heart in a single moment of pure trembling enchantment? How could I not have known such a joyous thing existed, or that it would inspire such a sense of wonder? A sumptuous beauty in clothed in emerald velveteen that came to mind each time I closed my eyes for weeks after first sight.

It was Pseudoips prasinana (L.), the Green Silver-lines. And this is why.

Above and featured photo: Pseudoips prasinana, Green Silver-lines, both taken in an East Sussex woodland by Hildesvini. Own work, CC0

The Green Silver-lines is on the wing between May and July, having hatched from its tough boat-shaped pupa on the underside of the leaves of its larval food plants: Downy and Silver birches, oaks, hazel and elms – all major components of the copses at Three Hagges Wood-meadow. And no, you see, it’s not enough just to plant flowers – many other species of moth use our native trees too. As I discovered by reading that seminal ecological paper, by Robert Southwood, The number of insect species associated with various trees.(1961). [See acknowledgements].

There’s an English word, prasinous, which means of a clear, lively green colour, and it’s derived from the Ancient Greek, πρᾰ́σῐνος prásinos, meaning leek-green, light green. So there you have it: prasinus m ‎(feminine prasina, neuter prasinum) – leek green.
But as with many specific epithets that denote colour – and they’re used in Natural Latin for both flora and fauna – the actual shade is seldom precise. There are upwards of 1096 colour names to choose from. I used three major references to help track them down, mostly H.A. Dade’s Colour Terminology in Biology, and Ridgway’s Color Standards and Color Nomenclature (1912). If you want a whole website devoted to colour terminology. go to: http://people.csail.mit.edu/jaffer/Color/Dictionaries#RThe spectrum of the colour prasina looks something like this:
My further etymological explorations lead me to believe that the term prasinus has been exploited right across the natural spectrum- not only by entomologists.

That, however, is not the end of it. For I discovered that Claudius, Nero and Caligula were also enthusiastic leek-greeners. The leek-green faction of charioteers in the Roman circus, as opposed to the reds, blues and whites, were known as – you’ve guessed it. The prasina, or prasinoi. You will note that, since the circuit was conducted in an anti-clockwise fashion, the greens are in the lead. And if, as Robert Graves would have us believe, Claudius enjoyed such extravagant partisanship of the leek-green faction, well frankly … so do I.